Kathy Bradley - Archery at the seam

Kathy Bradley - Archery at the seam

Kathy Bradley

The lines on the sailboats in the boatyard keen in the wind, cats meowing mournfully at some imagined wrong. The tide is low, the water nearly flat. In the not too distance, a shrimp boat’s silhouette cuts the gray landscape with edges as sharp as a knife blade. It is not exactly too cold for a long walk, but I am ill-prepared; the coat is warm enough, the shoes sturdy enough, but without gloves or a scarf, my hands, my face, my ears will be gnawed raw in minutes.